


Sex with a ghost

by Cottage_whore_xX



Category: Team Starkid - Fandom, The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Arguing, Coffee, F/M, First Dates, First Time, Flashbacks, Fluff, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Memories, Murder, Murder-Suicide, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Song Lyrics, Suicide, Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:53:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23514205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cottage_whore_xX/pseuds/Cottage_whore_xX
Summary: I killed Emma Perkins. I shot the love of my life. The blood was on my hands.
Relationships: Alice/Deb (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Charlotte/Ted (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Paul Matthews & Emma Perkins, Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins
Kudos: 17





	Sex with a ghost

**Author's Note:**

> this took soooo god damn long, jesus

“I killed Emma Perkins. I shot the love of my life. The blood was on my hands. I can’t stand to see the pictures of her and me, knowing the misery I cause her every single day. Every damn day that I would walk right down into the basement like I didn’t know what I was doing was wrong and horrible. I shot Emma Perkins. And living with that pain is the worst pain I have ever felt in my life.” Paul scribbled lazily on a spare sheet of paper, knowing no one would give enough shits to go looking for him.

_ I'm getting hickeys from my bed bugs _

Paul Matthews drudged through what he knew to be the last day of his life. Emma’s body still lying dead in his basement. Believe me, he's checked more times than he cared to admit. No matter how many times he calls her name, no matter how many times he tried to shake her awake, she’s still dead. She’s still surrounded by a pool of her own blood with a bullet hole clean through her head. He didn’t think it’d kill her, he just thought he’d miss again and hit the wall. He didn’t think it would happen. He wished Emma would just be there to comfort him in a time like this. But there was no one, no one left in Hatchetfield, no one left to care. They all knew him as a serial killer and off of his multiple kidnapping and assault charges, they all probably would have wanted to know that he was dead at his own hands.

_ I'm getting busy with a bad perfume _ .

The songs and voices echoed in his ears, making his yearning to be with Emma, wherever she ended up to only grow stronger and stronger. The hive was even shaming him for his shitty decision, they shamed him for missing, they shamed him for his stupid non-traditional approach to infecting people. He should have known it wouldn’t have worked. Right on Matthews, way to go! Everything had been set, he was just planning to wait, wait until a later time, wait until he had the courage, just, wait. He picked up the gun, surveying each little nook and cranny. This is what Emma would have wanted, Emma would have wanted him to do something like this. He knew it wasn’t, but maybe if he could convince himself that Emma would have wanted this he could get it done quicker.

_ I'm sticking kisses to a pen drug _

Paul made himself a sandwich, nothing too complex, something easy. He wouldn’t bother with coffee, it would never be as good as the coffee Emma would make him and quite honestly it would just remind him of her. He sighed, plopping down on the couch, staring at a blank screen. It was weird how pissed the hive got that he didn’t infect her. He tried, he tried so hard, but she resisted, she resisted every single time. At some point, he stopped trying to drug her drinks with the goo, but he always tried to get in her pants, thinking maybe then he could get her infected. It didn’t work. It never would. He knew he would get her someday, but he thought he could break her down and force her to stop resting. That never happened though. No matter what he threw at her spirt never dulled.

_ I'm making friction with a sad vacuum _

Paul went downstairs to the basement, leaving everything the police would need to figure out where most of the missing citizens went. He left his browser history the way it was, letting the cops go through it and catch all the people who indirectly assisted him in killing his wife. The one thing he wanted was vengeance, vengeance for Emma, vengeance for her family, he wanted something to change after being a piece of shit husband, he wanted someone to know what a piece of shit he was and how much worse than Sam he was, he wanted someone to make the change he never could. He hoped that maybe someone who knew her would make some sort of memorial for her to keep her memory while he rotted six feet under in the Hatchetfield cemetery. He deserved nothing more than to have his flesh feasted upon by maggots and spiders and whatever else worms its way into his coffin. 

_ I'm getting jiggy with a rifle _

An hour before Emma was shot, Paul walked down to the basement, throwing whatever scraps he didn’t want at her. But this wasn’t Paul, this was just the hive. Today, the hive wanted Paul to finish the job, he broke her down enough now he needs to finish it off. Paul thought that maybe if it all ended in a quick and painless flash it’d be easier for both of them. Kiss her lips, shove some goo in the wound then she comes back good as new. The hive encouraged this, leading to him closer to the gun that would eventually end Emma’s life and ruin his.

_ I pull the trigger with my eyes closed _

It was a few minutes before the incident. Paul Matthews was screaming in Emma’s face again, watching the tears pour from her eyes, dropping to the floor. If Paul could be there now with her he would remove everything that held her down and let her be free. But Paul couldn’t do anything about this. He just kept on screaming, nagging about every little thing that she couldn’t really control. Paul didn’t reveal that he had a weapon on him. Emma figured he would, but Paul wanted to keep it a surprise of sorts. Just in this second, Paul Matthews pulls a shotgun out from behind his back, holding it to Emma’s head. He cocks the gun as an extra little threat, making Emma scream and cry in a way he deemed pathetic.

_ Hoping to hit you somewhere vital _

Paul never meant to hit Emma, he just wanted to get close enough to hitting her to scare her shitless. But that didn’t go as planned. So there they were Paul Matthews holding a gun to the forehead of the love of his life. 

“Please, Paul! Please don’t do this!” She squalled pathetically. He watched as she wailed, she pleaded like her life depended on it. The tears dripping from her eyes as she sniffled, trying to remain at least a little put together. But Paul didn’t see it that way, he could hear every sob, every little dry heave, and gasp for air, he could see how ugly of a crier she was, the snot dripping from her nose, the tears escaping from her eyes as she screamed her pleas, noticing that Paul wasn’t listening.

**Bang.**

* * *

_ And when I miss, you come and kiss me with a smile _

Paul watched her eyes widen as she slumped back. The life draining from her eyes and face as the blood rained down from the new hole in her skull, her heart slowly stopped pounding in her chest as she took in gasps of air. Paul couldn’t believe what he just did, his blood going cold. He shook Emma, calling her name, calling her nicknames, calling all the little pet names he had for her. Until he realized that she was gone, he grabbed her, holding her close to him, listening to her take in her last breath as she fell limp in his arms. This is the only time Paul had ever cried in Emma’s presence, but this was the first time and the last. He sobbed and sobbed until there were no tears left to cry. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to any anything, she was gone and there was no other reason for him to keep going. She was his light, she was his everything, and now she’s gone. He thought he’d miss once again, he thought that he wouldn’t ever hit her, as if tempting the fates wasn’t hard enough. He just hugged her closer, waiting for her to say that it was all a joke and that she was fine and they could go on with their lives. But she didn’t. She just stayed there limp and stagnant in his arms.

_ I'm having sex with a ghost 'cause she knows I'm alone She's a freak in the sheets, play it cool, I'm sleeping with a ghoul _

Paul wondered up to his bed, flopping down onto the mattress. He cherished the feeling of Emma snuggled up beside him, sharing the blanket after their first time, the feeling of her soft skin against his, the way she sounded, her confidence. He missed it all more than anything. He missed her breathy little ‘I love you’s after they were done, he missed the way her perfume flooded his senses. He missed her. He missed her more than anything.

Paul Matthews had never been more terrified for something in his life. He had a few partners previously, but none like Emma, she was so forward and blunt with her wishes. Paul wished he could be more like her. Emma walked into the bedroom after getting cleaned up and readying herself to get to bed after she and Paul were done. Paul had drank a little just to take the edge off. He was still conscious enough to not regret anything or do anything regrettable, but just a little less in his own head. Paul was already laying down in bed, simply reading a book by the time Emma wondered in, locking the door behind her. She sat beside him, her knees curled under her. She rested her head on his shoulder, smiling at him. They had previously talked about how they wanted their first time to be together just sweet and gentile. Paul put his book down, smiling back at Emma, he pulled her into a slow, tender kiss, Playing with the hairs on the back of her neck. Every action made it clear what his intention was. The dim room was slowly gaining a soft, blue glow the more aroused Paul got. He didn’t break the kiss, sitting her against the rustic, wooden headboard that he had picked out ages ago. Paul sat between her legs. He pulled away, looking deep into her eyes, keeping his hand on the back of her neck. 

“Emmy, songbird, do you want this?” Emma nodded, pulling him back in for another passionate kiss. She wrapped her legs around his lower back, letting him pull away to trail kisses down from the corner of her mouth to her collarbone tinting the skin blue. He listened to the noises she let out, her soft little moans egging him on, making him harder and adding more light to the room. He pulled away, looking up at her silently asking if he could take off the shirt he lent to her back when they first started dating, to that Emma simply nodded. He slowly slipped the shirt over her head, taking in her whole appearance, she was hotter than he imagined. He kissed more of the delicate skin just below her collarbone, this time, leaving little blue, glowing hickeys and a small trail of blue shit leading down from under her collarbone to her breast. He listened to her moans get louder and louder until his mouth was inches away from her nipple. He pulled away, looking up at Emma. She let out a little whine, wanting him to go back down and finish the job. Instead, he moved his hands to the hem of her panties, slowly taking them off and tossing them to the side with little care as to where they ended up. He used a finger to stroke her, her wetness providing as a small insight that he was doing this right.

“You’re so wet for me, love…” and with that, he slid a finger inside her, smirking down at her as he awaited her reaction. Emma immediately moaned out, biting down on her lower lip to stifle the noise and prevent the neighbor’s from awakening to her moans. She covered her mouth as he began to thrust his finger into a spot he seemed to find without much struggle, making her squirm just a little. He added another finger, using his free hand to gently pin both of her hands above her. 

“Muse, I want to hear you.” He sang, moving his fingers faster into that spot. She moaned at a reasonable volume, as the tension started to build up. Her walls clenched around his fingers just before he pulled out, knowing she was ready. He pulled down his pants and boxers, the blue glow more vibrant, freeing his erection as he pushed into her. Her eyes widened, almost in shock of how big he was. Her best guess was whatever they say about tall guys having big dicks is true. He waited a number of seconds, waiting for her to get comfortable. The blue glow and outline of his cock were ever so visible, due to her being so thin.

“Em, angel, can I move?” She nodded, moaning out as he slowly thrust in and out of her, picking up the speed when the pace got too tedious and Emma seemed ready. He grabbed her hips, the awkward silence between them broken by a long, high, desperate moan escaping Emma’s lips as her arms slipped lower, scratching deep cuts into the pale flesh just under his shirt. Emma seemed to moan out louder with every cervix-deep thrust she revived, the familiar knot building up in her stomach. 

“Look at you, you’re taking at all so well, dove…” he praised quietly, gripping her hips tight as he thrust faster into the spot that forced out those pretty little noises he loved so much. She moaned out louder, digging her nails harder into his back.

“You’re doing so good, honeydew…” he smiled, bringing himself closer with every thrust. She moaned out, too deep in her own pleasure to form words other than a string of swears that sounded oh so beautiful when mumbled in just the right way. His fingers found their way to the front, fumbling around until he found the perfect combo that seemed to make Emma sing like he had never heard her before. Her moans were breathy and frantic broken up by heavy pants, signaling him that rubbing her clit and fucking her this hard was the perfect combo. She screamed out his name, her head tipping back. Paul too was close, his little grunts and moans now getting ever so slightly louder and more frequent. He looked down at her.

“Are you going to come, daydream?” Paul Matthews loved pet names, every single name was given to her by him out of pure admiration and love, the exact opposite of what the hive stood for. She nodded, her eyes slamming shut as she got closer and closer. He continued thrusting into that same spot, forcing yet another string of swears to tumble from her lips. As she got closer and closer it felt as if something broke inside her, no longer allowing her to hold back as she neared her orgasm.

“Please, Paul!! Please don’t stop!” She screamed out, seemingly dragging out a few of the vowels. Paul wouldn’t dream of stopping now. While it would be hot, he felt that Emma deserves her release. He slammed into that spot ruthlessly, rubbing her clit harder making her toes curl as she moaned out louder, moving her hands from scratching up his back to pushing her hands against his upper abdomen. The noises around her muted for a second as her eyes rolled back, the tension released in a flash as her reality slowly came back. Just before Paul pulled out, pumping himself a few times, letting out a few moans before coming onto her abdomen, not caring about the mess the both of them had made. Emma looked at him, confused by the fact that his cum was not only blue but glowing as well. Paul knew this was going to be an awkward conversation, but he didn’t really care. He slumped over, nearly collapsing on top of her body. They both sat there, panting and trying to catch their breath, their foreheads pressed together. He could feel her legs still twitching and shaking softly against his lower back. Emma, inevitably engulfed him in a final kiss, before eventually hobbling over to their bathroom like a newborn deer still learning how to walk. He just simply chuckled, picking up his book as he waited for her to get out.

_ The only time I ever see her is when she's behind me in the mirror _

It was odd to him how the sheets still had a trace of her scent, a subtle reminder that Emma Perkins was just here the night before, snuggled beside him and mumbling something about how much she loved him. Not the hive, _ him _ . He wished he appreciated that conversation more, not knowing it would be the last time they would get the chance to speak together as lovers rather than enemies.

She brought up their actual wedding, the little private ceremony they had away from everyone else and the media. She brought up how he cried when he saw her because of how stunning she was to him.

Emma was in some room away from the venue, Charlotte was helping her get ready seeing she was the only one that Emma could reach out to about Paul’s abuse and Emma was the only one Charlotte could reach out to about Sam’s ever-worsening abuse. She helped her into her wedding dress, lacing up her corset. She turned Emma around taking in the full sight. 

“You look stunning, Emma…” she smiled, flabbergasted and ever so slightly in love. Emma smiled back.

“Thank you, Lottie…” She gave her a quick peck on the cheek, making Charlotte’s face flush and turn a bright shade of pink before making her way out of the room, walking fairly well in her big, chunky heels. Paul knew she couldn’t walk in anything with a tall, tiny heel, but he also knew her legs weren’t the best. He let her chose what she wore, just wanting her to be happy for once. 

Charlotte walked her out of the room, letting Emma stabilize herself against Charlotte. Charlotte handed her off to her utterly clueless stand-in dad. He linked arms with his adopted daughter, smiling down at her.

“You picked a good one, Emma.” Oh yeah, she picked a good one alright. He would have been better if he wasn’t infected but he is a pretty good guy. They started to walk out to the field where Emma was supposed to meet Paul. He was there talking with his best man, Bill about how worried he was that Emma got cold feet and left him as she should’ve ages ago. Hidgens let her walk forward, standing back and watching as she walked up to Paul, whose back was obviously turned to Emma. Bill smiled at Emma and she smiled back, hoping Paul would turn around soon. Paul eventually got the hint and turned around, almost in shock at how beautiful she was. He pulled her in, lifting her to his level and pecking her lips, she kissed him again, this time going further. She wrapped her arms around him, smiling into the kiss as they pulled away, pressing their foreheads together. 

“You look stunning Emma, I can’t wait to marry you…” he whispered, smiling at her. She wrapped her legs around him, hugging him closer. 

“I love you too, Paul…” she smiled back. He put her down, looking at Bill. 

“I’ll see you at the ceremony, Emmy.” He pecked her forehead, walking back. “I love you, Emma.” He took one last glance at her dress, admiring the way the crystals sparkled in the light, the way the dress made her look like Cinderella at the ball, which Paul would definitely say is an added bonus. Her hair perfectly framed her face, the little flowers braided into her hair by Charlotte stunned him. It stunned him that he even dated someone as beautiful as Emma after how they met and their first date. Emma just looked at Paul with heart-eyes constantly, just oh so in love with that man. Her father linked arms with her yet again as he walked her down to the venue. She let Paul pick out some small, intimate, little church, knowing the wedding wasn’t going to be huge. She knew the wedding had started as soon as the music did. Her dad opened the door, walking beside Emma. She looked around listening to the small, little comments made about how she looked. Emma eventually joined Paul at the altar, smiling wider than she ever had. He grabbed her hands, just waiting for the vows. Melissa started reading off the traditional shit for most of the wedding, adding bits of humor to keep the ceremony from being too dry until they got to the vows.

“The bride and groom wrote their own vows because they’re” Melissa made a gagging noise, making everyone laugh just a bit. “So, they’re gonna read those off now.” Paul pulled a small folded paper from his breast pocket and Melissa just handed Emma her paper. Paul took a deep breath, preparing himself to speak. 

“Emma, soon to be Matthews, Perkins. My best friend, my lover, my partner in crime. I have loved you since I first spilled coffee on myself and was so oblivious to that fact that you had to come over and clean it up. I loved you on our first date even though I walked directly into a stop sign while walking to the carnival and couldn’t see or think straight because of it. I knew after our first date that you were the woman I wanted to marry. I don’t know how you’ve managed to put up with me all these years but, I’m glad you did because you have made me the happiest man in the world. Emma Marie Perkins, I love you with all my heart and I promise to take care of you no matter what. I want to grow old with you, I want to start a family with you, I want to see the world with you and do things I would have never dared do on my own. But most of all, I’m excited to spend every day of my life with the woman I love more than anything in the world. Remember when you were in the Hatchetfield high production of Brigadoon? The show sucked, but you didn’t. I never thought I’d ever get the chance to say this but I’m glad I went home with Bonnie Jean. Remember how your first pick up line was ‘I’m highly attracted to you. Why, when I look at you I feel wee little tadpoles jumping in my spine’ in that little Scottish accent you still put on from time to time? Even though it was a quote from that fucking musical, I thought it was the cutest thing in the world. So, Emma Perkins, I love you to Brigadoon and back. Until death do us part, songbird.” Emma was nearly in tears, just so in love with this man, watching as he folded the paper back up and tucked it back into his breast pocket, looking down at her. Emma cleared her throat, beginning to read off the page.

“Paul Matthews. You are my absolute favorite dumbass. We together share a brain cell, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re the Cosmo to my Wanda and I wouldn’t trade that for the world. I still owe you an apology for just laughing instead of helping for the first couple minutes, so this is it. Paul, I’m sorry I asked you if you were trying to burn your dick off instead of helping you clean up the coffee you spilled. I like to think I’ve more than made up for that though. And I’m also sorry for laughing when you fell after walking face-first into that stop sign. And I could never express the sorrow I feel that you had to sit through Brigadoon and watch me dance around that stage for an hour. Through thick and thin, black, white and blue, I’ll be right by your side. Paul, I love you more than words or actions or even song could ever describe, and I am so insanely happy to be your wife and part of your family. I promise to take care of you, whether you’re sick again or you’ve managed to walk into yet another sign. I promise not to hog the covers, though thats not exactly set in stone. With you, I want to see the world and start a family. I vow that I will never make you sit through another musical until Workin’ Boys just to spare the both of us that agony. You are my forever, my best friend, my dream come true, my everything and I normally never get this sappy but, I’ve literally never been happier, I’m so happy to be marrying you. Paul, I love you to the moon and back.” She smiled at him, squeezing his hands. Melissa awed.

“How adorably disgusting. Now, with the power unfortunately vested in me by totally legit religious site, you may now kiss the bride.” Paul didn’t spare a second thought pulling her in for a passionate but sweet and loving kiss. He dipped her, as Emma flung her arms around him. When they eventually stopped making out at the alter, he picked her up, carrying her out of the church.

_ Even from a distance, I can hear her try to listen, _

_ but her whispers make my ears hurt _

Emma frequently wakes in the middle of the night. Lucky for Paul, he doesn’t really need sleep, so he could spend some time helping Emma relax. Some days they cuddled, some they fucked others he just let her cry and vent. He always liked cuddling with Emma, her skin was soft, her hair smelt like roses, she smelt like vanilla most nights others she smelt like coca. It all just enthralled Paul, he would wrap his arms around her abdomen and kiss the crook of her neck. He loves to listen to her little snorts and giggles as he hugs her close against his own cold, shell of a body. Sure he’s  _ living _ but it doesn’t mean he's  _ alive _ ! His heart beats at a slower pace than most, his blood is straight-up filled with spores and glows blue just like every fluid in his body. Sometimes he would hum some annoying tune or if he was really happy he would tap out a little rhythm on her skin. He was like a happy, dumb five-year-old with no concept of time or why Emma would beat him with a pillow at two AM to get him to stop singing. He's an idiot, but he's Emma’s idiot. 

This particular night Emma couldn’t seem to close her eyes, her mind racing at a million miles an hour about the previous events of the day. See, they were kinda famous influencers known to be a cute, happy couple and keeping up that facade tired Emma. Everyone thought they were a good, happy couple but no one really knew the truth. No one remembered the Hatchetfield Disaster after PEIP made sure to erase everything, they all just thought it to be a weird dream. Which meant that Paul would have to suppress the Hive’s urges to burst out into a full musical number. He flopped over, snaking his arms around her abdomen just like he always would. He knew something was wrong, he could always tell when something was going on with Emma.

“Emmy, baby, what’s going on?” He sang, hugging her close. A sigh escaped her lips as she looked away, not even bothering to hug him back. “Babygirl, what did he do?” She didn’t know what do say, how does she describe what he put her through. She just looked at him, nearly on the verge of tears. “That bad?” She nodded, snuggling closer just a bit. “Do you want to talk about it?” Emma sighed.

“Not exactly, I just want you to help me get to sleep nightmare free…” he looked at her, confused, this is a different request, she’s never asked him to do this for her before. Paul kept all his panic on the inside, in his opinion thats exactly where it should be, and spoke carefully.

“How do I do that, Emmy?” She rolled on top of him, grabbing his hand and putting it in her hair. She rested her head against his chest, listening to his rhythmically slow heartbeat. He put his hand on her lower back, getting the hint that she wanted him to play with her hair. She melted in his touch.  
“Do you ever feel like you’ll never amount to anything…” she didn’t even look at him, she spoke so calmly like this was nothing.

“Emma, are you alright?”

“I’m not really sure anymore, Paul…”

“Emmy, darling, how do I fix that?”

“As I said, I’m not sure!” She snapped, catching Paul off guard. 

“Emma, was it something the hive said? Did he do something?”

“Yes Paul, he said something, yes it was something the hive said, Paul, I can’t do this, you have to get rid of him…” Paul sighed, trying to stay calm as to not make everything worse.

“Baby I’m trying but it’s easier said than done!”

“Then try harder!” She snarled. He didn’t know what to say. He just looked at her, hurt.

“Emmy, please, I just want to help-” She interrupted, smacking his hands away from hers.

“Paul, you keep on saying that and yet you haven’t done anything! We wouldn’t be having this conversation if you just turned yourself into PEIP!” He glared at her, all sympathy almost gone.

“So this is my fault?! Emma, I thought you were the one to suggest blowing up the meteor! You want me to turn myself in and get killed for something like this!” He snapped, nearly triggering her fight of flight.

“If it means you’ll stop doing this to me, I’ll fucking take it!” Did she just say she wanted him dead?

“Emma, really? You’d rather I die than-”

“Paul you’re not hearing me I sai-”

“No, you’re saying you’d rather me die than to put up with the apotheosis for a few more years while I try to figure out the cure!?” Paul was yelling in her face. Emma was on the verge of tears, trying not to cry. 

“Paul, please stop…” She whispered, brushing the hair out of his face, trying to calm him down. He grabbed her hand, glaring at her.

“Answer the question, Emma. Do you want me dead?” His eyes slowly started glowing a bright electric blue that would make the ’80s jealous. She shielded her face, looking down.

“Paul, please, I didn’t mean it, just snap out of it…” she cried as he scoffed.

“Pathetic. Thats what you are. Pathetic. You’re a disappointment, Emma I don’t know why the fuck I ever wanted to be with you.” He let her hand go, getting up. “Get out of my bed. I don’t care where you fucking sleep, just don’t sleep here or else I’ll make you fucking regret it.” His face was turning bright, glowing blue. She had never left a room so quick, she ran down the stairs, sleeping on the couch next to his hellspawn of a cat. She just sobbed into the couch cushions, thinking that he was better than that.

Meanwhile, Paul was upstairs, fighting off the hive to the best of his ability. He eventually won and was planning to use the last of his remaining energy to help Emma. He walked downstairs, looking at Emma.

“Emmy, baby, can I help?” He smiled weakly, sitting beside her.

_ And on our dates, it's never daytime When she gets playful with a steak knife _

Emma showed up at his house at about five-thirty right after her shift ended. She always believed in comfort over style but she decided to dress up just a bit for him, considering he’s only ever seen her in her work uniform and all she’s ever seen him in was a suit. She hastily changed in the cramped, little, Beanies restroom, got questioned by both Zoey and Nora about where she was off to in such a hurry, got told by her boss to, and she could still remember this to this day, ‘use protection because we don’t have enough employees for you to go on maternity leave.’ That’s not embarrassing, not at all. But she wouldn’t let Zoey and Nora ruin her night with Paul, who the referred to as a ‘tall drink of water’ at the very least nine times in the past three minutes. Once Emma had made it out the door she asked him for his address, planning to snatch him. He told her his address without much questioning and she was off.

Paul decided to just dress down, nothing too interesting or formal just the most average thing he could find in his closet, debating if a band tee was too flashy for a first date. It’s a good conversation starter, who knows, it might get him laid, it has in the past. Just go with something simple, Paul, it’s not that hard there’s only like two band tees in your closet. Nirvana is chill enough for a first date, right? Its something that shows culture and like, hey I live life just a bit more on edge than the average guy in an office would, right? Eh, fuck it, he's going with it anyways. Maybe Emma liked Nirvana, he didn’t know. But he hoped she did.

Emma made it to his house, wiping her hands on her jeans as she walked up to the door. Jesus, this felt like highschool all over again. She knocked on the door, noticing there was no doorbell to ring and waited for Paul to finally come out of his house. He walked out, locking the door behind him, not saying a word to Emma. She looked at him, waiting for him to acknowledge her existence.

Shit Paul, do something she’s glaring at you. He turned around once he finished locking the door, which took him a bit longer than usual seeing as he's not used to being watched. “Uh, hey Emma, ready to go?” She giggled. That’s a good sign.

“Uh, yeah, I kinda drove here with the anticipation that we’d be going to a fair unless… someone’s scared of rides?’’ She smirked smugly, rubbing it in his face that she’s scared of nothing and no one. She started walking to the car, Paul trailing behind her. He grabbed the door handle, opening the door for her. “Thanks…” she got in the car, waiting for him to get in too. Now that both of them were sitting down in the car, they were off.

Emma drives fast, she drives fast and doesn’t give a shit about the police. That scared Paul to see her speed down the nearly empty road, making him wonder if he was going to die at the hands of Emma Perkins in her shitty, rundown car. 

Sam was a horrible person and an even worse cop. Doug and Rob knew better than to fuck with Emma, but Sam would repeatedly learn the hard way. He saw Emma speeding, flaring up the sirens and the lights. Emma signed, pressing the gas and speeding off more, trying to lose him. Paul was panicking in the passenger’s seat. He was right, this was going to be how he died. Sam started shouting something about how Emma needs to pull over right now, yes, he used her name. No, she did not pull over. Instead, she stuck her head through the open window, letting go of the wheel to scream “ACAB motherfucker.” Now Paul is really panicking, he grabbed the wheel, steering the car in the right direction as Emma continued to taunt Sam. 

It didn’t take long for her to lose him, and they weren’t too far from the fairgrounds, so that was good. Thank god for Paul Matthews. Emma took back over the wheel, driving into the parking lot a few blocks away from the carnival. This was one of the only big events in Hatchetfield, so many people came every year. Emma remembered coming here as a kid and just being able to run around with the kids from Hatchetfield and Sycamore elementary. She might have met Paul as a kid, but she wouldn’t have known until now. They both got out. Paul was still trying to quell his racing heart as Emma grabbed his hand, leaving the lot. They walked comfortably beside each other, making small talk off his shirt, just like he’d hoped. He wasn’t watching where he was walking, and damn he's tall. All his attention was focused on the short girl in front of him, not the rapidly approaching ‘no turn on red’ sign that was just the right height to smack him right between the eyes. Paul rammed his head into the sign, falling back. He just laid there, the world spinning faster than it ever had.

“Dude, are you alright?” Emma laughed, looking down at him. He just sat there.

“Emma, I think I just met god and got a concussion on the same night.” He grabbed his forehead. Emma was cackling, laughing harder than she ever had.

“Bro, holy shit, I think I’m gonna piss myself that’s amazing.” Paul slowly helped himself sit up, glaring at the small barista who was practically in tears. She stumbled over, offering her hand out to him. He glared and took her hand as he stumbled to his feet. They continued walking, Paul was more groggy and disoriented than he was before. They made it to the fair, eventually deciding after three or so rides to ditch seeing as most of the night was going to be spent on lines waiting and she was pretty sure Paul doesn’t want to be here any more than Emma did.

_ I need a break, maybe I'll take five Shake it up and medicate, maybe I'll take five _

It was late one afternoon, just as Beanies had started to gain some recognition. The place wasn’t busy, but it had people in it. Paul had heard… okay… things about this place, hoping everything he heard was true. He walked through the door, immediately greeted by what he would now know as Emma Perkins. He recognized her from something. Something he purposefully blocked from his memory. He walked to the counter, looking the barista dead in the eyes for a split second before averting his gaze and looking down.  _ Jesus, she's hot. _

“Uhh… I’m gonna make this real simple for you, just a nice cup of black coffee…” he stammered out, scratching the back of his head. Emma made a disgusted face at him, mumbling “Sicko.” Under her breath, as she turned to make his coffee.

Paul was now plotting how to ask Emma out. I mean, he barely knew her name. A pickup line seemed good in theory, but Paul is horrible when it comes to getting girls. Stripping naked and proposing is  **way** off the table. Maybe, just be chill, be cool and ask her to meet you at the library later, just-

“Paul?” She called holding his cup up. He, quite awkwardly strutted over to her, waving awkwardly before taking the cup. He looked into those deep brown eyes, smiling at her.  _ Play it cool, Paul. Play it cool. _

He looked her up and down, taking in the full picture of her outfit. God, he just couldn’t stop staring, she’s too pretty. She glared at him, clearing her throat. “My eyes are up here, dickhead!” she snarled, walking away.  _ What the fuck was that, Paul! You can't do that! Do something cool! _

He shot her two quick finger guns and walked to a table in the corner. Emma continued to help the other customers until the shop was empty. Emma glared at him as she was cleaning off the counter. He didn’t look up at her. 

“Are you going to leave? We’re closing in like, five minutes…” Paul looked up at her, picking up his coffee. He just took in everything, the way her hair cascaded over her face, the way that white shirt hugged her figure in all the right places, the way those brown eyes looked at him. Then, he started to feel the heat, no, heat wouldn’t describe it, more like a fiery sensation that felt like. Oh shit. He looked down noticing he was spilling coffee. Not just spilling coffee, but spilling coffee all over himself, his uniform and the floor that Emma would inevitably have to clean. It took him a second to register the pain before he yelped, attempting to grab as many napkins as he could without- oh shit paul, what the fuck! Paul flung the napkins off the table, looking nervously up at an absolutely hysterical Emma. “Dude! Pick up the cup! It’s like you're trying to burn your dick off!” She laughed, moving forward. She caught Paul in his bisexual panic, grabbing the cup from his hands and slamming it down on the table, making Paul fear his life, and yet kinda like he wanted her to fuck him right there right now. “You’re helping me clean this.” She snorted, making Paul’s heart melt. He couldn’t help but nod, just so in love. He didn’t believe in love at first sight until he saw Emma, but could you blame him?

Emma Perkins was a tired college drop out in her late twenties. She didn’t want to be in Hatchetfield any more than half of the population did. She was only here because of… well… long story. Emma walked around grabbing the napkins. Emma thought he was cute, she just believes strongly in tough love. She looked at him, slowly admiring all his features. His hair was really nice, it looked soft. She wanted to touch it, she really did. Paul then looked up at her. Shit! She looked down immediately, getting back to scrubbing the coffee out of the carpet that was going to be removed ASAP. 

“So, uh, I know now might be a bad time but, uh, do you, do you want to go out? Maybe go see a movie together?” He asked, looking at her. Emma looked at him, puzzled. 

“Like on a date?” Paul sheepishly nodded. 

“Yeah, maybe I could make a better impression on you?” Emma looked at that. 

“You’ve already made a pretty good impression on me, dude…” she smiled. “So, how does next week work for you?”

“That sounds good to me…” he smiled back. “Only thing, I don’t know your name so… uh, I’m Paul?” He held his hand out to her, still sticky and stained with coffee.

“Emma. We have a bathroom just over there if you want to go wash off your hands?” He laughed, scratching the back of his head, seemingly forgetting about the coffee that was still on his hand. Emma scoffed, rolling her eyes.  _ God damn dumbass.  _ He rushed off to the bathroom, washing his hands frantically. She just smiled, looking at him. 

Nora and Zoey were watching, she knew how Emma felt about him.

“Emma, come here for a second...” Nora called, making Paul wonder if he got her in trouble. He was willing to defend her if he did, not wanting her to get fired. “Emma, sweetie, do you like him? Like, like-like him?” She smirked wickedly as Zoey decided to chime in. 

“Ooo! Does the oh-so-tough Emma Perkins have a crush on someone?!” Zoey laughed watching Emma turn pink.

“Shut up!” She laughed, turning around to face him.

“Emma, answer the question, do you have a crush on him?” Emma just laughed, admiring him from afar.

“Maybe I do, Nora, maybe I do…” she smirked, still just taking in the beauty of the utterly distracted Paul Matthews in the wild. 

“You two should bone.” Zoey simply stated, going back to the break room.

“She’s not wrong…” Nora followed her, leaving Emma red-faced and fuming.

_ I'm having sex with a ghost 'cause she knows I'm alone She's a freak in the sheets, play it cool, I'm sleeping with a ghoul _

In all honesty, Paul Matthews never really liked Hatchetfield. He might have wanted to leave at some point in his life, he just never got the chance. Paul liked the consistency of having a house, people he knew, a small, easy to navigate city and everything just the way he wanted it. It was heaven for him. Sure he liked to travel, but how would he fare in a totally different place far from everyone he knew and loved. How would he manage without the opportunity to visit his parent’s long-abandoned farm and relive some of his old childhood memories? Would he enjoy moving to a big city with Emma, or would it be too much for him?

It didn’t matter now, nothing did as Paul Matthews sat with the gun pressed against his temple, taking in his last breaths. He looked down at Emma, he just looked at her, knowing he did that. The hive was screaming at him to just pull the trigger, nothing was worth it after he killed his queen and fucked up the whole operation. He started sobbing just thinking his last moments were spent being told to kill yourself by a force you can’t see or hear as his wife laid there dead on the floor, dead at his own hands, dead by the same gun he was going to end himself with. This was it for Paul Matthews. He would spend his final moments calling the HFPD, talking to Charlotte’s shitty husband, Sam as he did nothing to help per usual. He hung up before Doug could take the headset from Sam, knowing they would just track the call and find him lying dead beside Emma anyways. Everything was fleshed out in the note, his will, what to do with their bodies, everything. He made it all very easy expecting nothing to go wrong. He took in one last breath.

_ “Wait for me, Emma, I’m coming.” _ He mumbled before pulling the trigger, blue splattering alone the blank, stone walls as he slumped over, using the very last seconds of his life to crawl over to Emma and hold her dead, cold body close to his before he, in turn, passed away as well.

The Hatchetfield Police Department broke down the door, Doug leading the rest of their team just in case this was just a faulty call and he was really seeking to do some damage to them. But he wasn’t. Paul had no ulterior motives with this call. Doug was the first to go down to the basement, nearly sick at the smell of blood. They walked down the steps, noticing the two dead bodies huddled together, the corpses of the former King and what would have been his Queen. Doug followed, wrapping his arm around them. Doug walked forward, picking up the note. Rob read along over their shoulder, shocked by the reality of the case. When the team walked in, they expected a double suicide, not a homicide-suicide duo. Especially not from Paul and Emma. Doug called into the station, making them aware of the case at hand.

Hours had passed with Doug and Rob searching the house, collecting whatever was deemed valuable to their case before the Hatchetfield medical force and The Morning Hatchetfield News was there to cover the situation, both Dan and Donna avidly talking about the people who went missing at the hands of Paul Mathews. 

_ I'm having sex with a ghost 'cause she knows I'm alone She's a freak in the sheets, play it cool, I'm sleeping with a ghoul _

“This is the morning Hatchetfield news with Dan and Donna!’’ 

“Police say the body of Emma Matthews was found in her home this past Sunday. Her husband Paul Matthews had called in before taking his own life.”

“That’s tragic, Donna. Candlelight vigils line the streets as Hatchetfield citizens mourn this unfortunate loss.” They flashed that picture again, the one that paul loved but Emma hated, oh god she hated that photo so much before cutting away to interviews with people who knew her, first was Charlotte, mascara lines tainting her face as she clung on to Ted, she was still crying seeing as she was close to the both of them. The interviewer simply asked if they had anything they wanted to say and pointed the mic to Ted’s face. He grabbed the microphone from Donna in usual Ted fashion. 

“Eh, Katelyn was alright, I guess…” Charlotte jabbed him with her elbow, glaring up at him as he handed the mic off to Charlotte. 

“Emma Perkins was one of my best friends, she and Paul helped me through my divorce… she was just the sweetest thing on earth, I wish I could have helped her in the same way she helped me…” and with that Charlotte burst into tears, as Ted pulled her into a hug, letting her cry into his chest. They moved on to Zoey and Nora, even they seemed upset by this.

“Emma worked hard, she was a determined woman. I wish there were more people like her out there… thats why we’re determined to keep her legacy as strong as she was…” Nora smiled softly as the mic was passed over to Zoey.

“Emma may have hated my theatre friends and group but she actually still made an effort to come to see our shows, she normally told me she hated them, but I knew she secretly loved them.’’ She let out a soft chuckle, passing the mic back over to Donna. This whole group seemed to be in the town square, it was just a peaceful gathering of people mourning the loss of their friends. Next was a nearly distraught Bill. He was bawling, harder than he ever has in life. He couldn’t get any words out, he probably didn’t want to be seen on the news sobbing this hard. They just moved on, talking to Alice and Deb.

“Emma adopted up, basically, she did everything she could to keep us safe…” Deb sighed, holding Alice tighter. Alice kept her head down, speaking quietly. 

  
“I just can’t believe that uncle Paul would do something like this, I thought he loved her…”

“She was like a daughter to me, such an interesting, sweet girl…”Hidgens sighed, this hit hard, he couldn’t let it show, but it did. it had all gone to hell, from there either people sobbed or said something stupid that they would have hated hearing. The only other notable interview was Doug. their interview was a simple little. “She was chill, I liked her…”

Years had passed since this event. Just like Paul had hoped there was a memorial dedicated to Emma. after months of Zoey and Nora collecting money, it was finally there. People left flowers, joints, anything they knew Emma would have wanted on a memorial dedicated to her. There was a whole ass special made about her, it was one of those big ones that didn’t broadcast to Hatchetfield but it was a seemingly worldwide thing because the case managed to get that much attention. People wondered if the infamous Matthews Residence would ever host tours to truly showcase the horrors that Emma faced in her five years of captivity. And maybe one day they would, but that seemed too excessive for the town of Hatchetfield. But Paul did get what he wanted for her, she got her justice, the people of Hatchetfield got closure, and he, he was buried in the cemetery, far from Emma’s memorial. 


End file.
